Daughter of Elshadeth
by cloudwatching
Summary: A new race is introduced, but only one survives from it. How will they fare in the dangerous race against the dark forces that face Middle Earth.No crossovers from other stories I own nothing but the new race all else belongs to Tolkein
1. A stranger

It was quiet in the forest. So quiet that only an elf would have heard the faint rustle as a cloak slid over the fallen leaves. But here was an elf, and he heard the sound and was drawn by it, hands tightening, tensed to draw an arrow to the bow he held so loosely in his hand, now that the forest was threatened by the evil that had permeated so many other realms in recent times.

He moved silently through the trees towards the place where he had last heard the sound, ready to defend his aging father's kingdom with his life, if it should come to it. His foot, clad in soft leather, barely seemed to touch the carpet of bracken as he sped, silent and deadly as a shadow.

He slowed as he drew near a clearing, aware that although he was camouflaged by the light that dappled his green and grey tunic, that would not be enough to disguise himself if he came out of the cover of the trees. He halted as silently as he moved, concealing himself behind a tree on the edge of the glade. There was a tall figure approaching but he could not see it clearly as it moved in and out of shadow and light. He judged the height as well as he could and concluded that whoever it was, he bested them in height by nearly a hand's length. Light glinted off metal and he was notified to the presence of two blades, one seemingly longer than the other.

The figure finally stepped into the full sunlight of the clearing and he saw it was dressed in black, a hood covering it's face. The cloak was held at the neck with a silver clasp in a circle. The head was slightly bent, one thin fingered hand rested on the hilt of the sword, and the dagger hung nest to it on a belt under the cloak, which was lifted by the hand to display a dark green robe underneath. The figure knelt to drink from the tiny rivulet; it's back turned from the elf.

He stepped out from the cover, an arrow to his bow and said in common "Rise stranger, your life ends if you draw your sword."

The figure rose slowly, turned and a soft voice spoke "Lord, I do not know your name, but if like me you are an enemy of the dark lord then I can but hope you will allow me fair conduct until I may pass my message to The King of the Greenleaf."

The woman raised her hands to her hood, as though to reveal her face but then lowered them again. Her voice quavered and her head was bent once more, "Please, if you are a friend lead me to your King."

"I know him who you seek; he is my father, I am his only son, Legolas. I will be pleased to lead you to him but I am sure you understand that I will not lay aside my bow, or remove the arrow from it's string."

She nodded, and they proceeded, Legolas walking behind her, wondering how a woman came to be bearing a message, and travelling alone in these dangerous times. She did not walk smoothly but seemed to stumble slightly and Legolas reasoned that this was probably why he had been able to hear her. Her breathing was uneven but apart from her head she held herself erect. At length she gasped

"Have we far to go?"

"It is only a little further" he told her, wondering at the exhaustion that was plain in her voice," would you like me to stop for a short while?"

"No," it was almost a gasp, but she seemed to rally "I must speak with the King."

"He will still be in his palace, even if we do not reach it until evening."

"No!"

As they drew within sight of the castle and were able to see the platforms in the trees reached by thin, curling stairways and a network of bridges the woman seemed to be struggling for every step. Legolas had twice more offered to call a halt, had asked her to relinquish any weighty pack that she carried but she had refused, and he had had no choice but to follow her, though he had by now shouldered his bow. He took her arm, supposedly to help her find her way to the King, but really to support her as climbed the steps. She grasped it and he was astonished at how weak her grip was, and how heavily she also leaned on the balustrade.

When they reached the Great hall, high in the canopy, Legolas barely had to wave the guards to open the doors, so exhausted was the figure he supported. When they were inside, Legolas saw his father sitting in his throne and called his name urgently but almost before he had time to salute him, the lady had thrown off his arm and run the few steps to his throne, and holding out her hand had hurled a ball of light upwards, seemingly with her last remaining strength.

The light blossomed into a plane, which changed to a scene in a castle room, with a mountainous view out of the domed window. An old man stood there, and behind him guards could be seen, barricading the door with furniture and their own bodies as muffled sounds of battle sounded from outside. He spoke urgently;

"My brother Elf, I send this, my daughter, to you with this message. I will soon die- my warriors give my lives for this letter at this very moment. The armies of the dark lord have destroyed Elshadeth, have ripped crops from the land, torn up houses and watered the earth with the blood of our people. They move for Mirkwood, and they have a new weapon; fire that springs from water and powder, destroying all in it's path. They have broken our walls, those that were thought indestructible even from an army ten thousand trolls. Safeguard my daughter. She is the last of our land and carries our bloodline within her blood and my ancestors' sword, that which clove the helms of giants and slew balrog. Do this and my death and my peoples' deaths will not have been in vain."

The king stood, struck dumb by this news, but as the light faded Legolas ran to the fallen lady, who knelt. Tears were pouring down her face, and such a face. Her hair was dark, like polished cedar wood and it framed a face as white the snow on the mountains of the North. Her eyes stared at his face, unseeing, like two of the unfathomable blue ice lakes which lay in the west. The clasp of her cloak was loosed and it fell off her, as she fainted, revealing the deep wound which had stained her robe a deep scarlet.


	2. Healing and nightmares

As his father paced the room, lost deep in thought, Legolas wondered how the lady had possibly managed the journey with so deep a wound. It must have taken great perseverance to keep standing and a greater amount of control to walk than he could contemplate.

He had been astonished by the message she had brought. There was as much magic there as in the tales Mithrandir told of the old times when the council of wizards was at it's strongest. He had tried to ask his father about this mysterious people who obviously lived high in a mountain range and he had never heard tell of. His father's brow had been creased with worry, and he had sent a scout for the Great Eagles, to fly to the destroyed civilisation and report.

When Legolas had asked him what clan they were he had been shrugged off, his father's shoulders hunched and nervous pacing increased. He gazed out over the kingdom that would one day fall into his hands, his eyes fixed on the room the princess had been carried to. Only she could answer all of his and his father's questions but it was more than three hours since she had been placed there, and still the sage had not sent news.

Yet there was a page, running across the narrow bridge which was the only link her rooms had to the rest of the world. Legolas started up, and rushed to the door.

"Please, your highness, the sage calls for the King's touch." The boy said, not at all tired from his sprint across the walkway, "She will not survive long without it."

"No!" the King's vehement shout startled the boy, "She must survive she is the only blood link." He crossed the room in three strides and hurried after the boy across the bridge. Legolas followed, heart sick; the King's touch was only asked for those who stood on the very rim of life, and it would only work if the person truly had no other hope. If the King did not get there soon enough…

The room was open on one side, as the sick were supposed to need more light than anyone else, and there was a she elf, showing the faint wrinkles of advanced old age standing beside the sage, who leaned over his patient, his hand at her wrist, testing to see if life still flowed in those oh so important veins.

The king knelt by the bed, and slowly placed his hands palm down on the forehead of the girl. His eyes were closed just as her's were; he must touch her exactly as she was going to step over the rim of life.

Her chest shuddered and Legolas saw that where her gown had been cut away to expose the wound below her breast the savage gash was retreating, until it formed barely a white scar. His father sagged with relief and slowly turning walked out of the room. Legolas felt a pang of sympathy; when the King touched a dying person, he gave a little of his own time away.

He looked down at the lady, whose face was still as wax, despite the healing of her wound. Although her body was made new again, it could take weeks for her to take full repossession of it again. She was so beautiful; the dark lashes long against the white cheeks.

He tried to clear his head as he realised the sage was speaking to him "She must have someone by her side always. She has walked on the shores of the sea of death, and watched as her people drown in it. She must not be allowed to awaken alone. It could be hours, or even days before she even stirs."

Legolas nodded, mute, as he watched the sage leave and gave a shallow bow in respect to the old she elf, then walked to the rail that was all there was of the fourth wall. He stared across the expanse of the tree city, musing over the mystery that for him surrounded the lady. He stood with his eyes fixed on the middle distance, his hands clasped behind his back and slipped into meditation on the subject. An elf could sleep standing up if need be and go for up to a week without sustenance. They did not feel the cold, could walk on snow and saw farther than any creature but the great eagles, with better hearing.

He was tall, as all elves were and also young, having been born long after the battle for the end of darkness, which his father had commanded their armies in. That would make him far older than any living man though, as they lived only a century if they were fortunate.

He seldom met humans here in Mirkwood. They came to talk with the elves and seek their wisdom, but that had ceased in the last hundred years, and now the only people who entered the forest were Mithrandir and other elves, from far flung Rivendell and Lothlorien, realm of Galadriel. But now there were rumours of a darkness forming again in Mordor, that dark servants were being formed and armies from the south massing. Occasionally, evil creatures that had no place on this earth were sighted and either killed or hunted from the forest. How was this lady connected with those dark forces and what could his father do for them?

Dimly he heard a faint noise from behind and he threw off the trance that he had retreated into, finding that night had fallen, and the walkways were empty. The noise was repeated, and Legolas saw that the princess's hand was twitching at the silken sheets, her head tossing across the pillow, her breathing irregular. There was a frown upon her brow and she was murmuring anxiously in the grip of her nightmare. Legolas returned to the bedside and took her hand in his, stroking her cheek reassuringly.

"You're safe now. You're safe," but her thrashing became even more violent.

"Please…leave him be…let him die…please…no…no…please," tears leaked out from underneath her closed eyelids, catching on the lashes and hanging there like dew. Legolas felt a surge of anger for the creatures who had perpetrated this evil. She looked so frail lying there, short for an elf, almost the height of a human lady but so gracefully built that she looked ethereal in the moonlight, defenceless.

Suddenly her eyelids fluttered apart and he smiled down at her trying to reassure her, but she snatched her hand away, fear in her eyes. She looked around wildly,

"Where is my sword?" Her eyes opened wide, "Where is the message, she flicked her wrist desperately, then stared up at him, "You have taken it from me, how? How have you taken it from me?"

He reached out again to hold her back but she threw off her sheet, and tried to stand, but could not, falling to the floor. She shrieked frantically and tried to back away from him on her knees, sobbing. He retreated to the other side of the bed, so he did not alarm her, and averted his eyes from her body as he passed her the sheet, maids having taken her clothes while he was meditating, only listening for a noise caused by the lady.

He then retreated further until he had his back to the rail of the fourth wall and waited for her sobbing to die down. She tried to school her expression to the polite calm of an elf but she only partially succeeded.

Legolas spoke quietly, his eyes fixed compassionately at the cowering figure wrapped in the sheet, "My name is Legolas Greenleaf. Yesterday I escorted you to my father, the King and you delivered you're message. Your sword lies at the foot of the bed, with your dagger. You were wounded and a sage and my father healed you. Our whole kingdom salutes your courage."

He bowed low and she tried to rise, wishing to return her courtesy but fell back, unable to summon the strength. Tears silently ran down her face, and Legolas was again filled with rage against her tormentors. He crossed to where she lay and lifted her gently in his arms, laying her back on to the bed.

He turned to leave, wishing to respect her privacy but she gripped his hand like one drowning. "I thought you were one of his torturers. I thought I had failed and been taken back. I thought I had failed." Her eyes were like liquid pools of sorrow. He stroked her forehead with his other hand as he would to a child and her eyes slowly closed once more.

He stayed until morning, and left the old she elf in charge while the lady still slept.


	3. A message from a dead race

The next time he saw her was that evening. She was being supported by the same nurse across a walkway, with two pages behind her, should she chance to fall. The council were seated; near the King, his four main advisors seated most prominently. Legolas stood by the door, symbolically welcoming everybody to his father's house with a shallow bow, which they were supposed to return with a deeper reverence. However, when the Lady drew near he offered the same sweeping bow he had made before. This was in public recognition of her royalty, though no one had yet told him what her country was, and also in private reaffirmation of his respect for her courage.

She smiled weakly at him, and he could see she leaned heavily upon the nurse's arm when she returned his bow with as deep a salute as she could manage, which in different circumstances would have been seen as highly impolite. She was to be seated facing the King directly, in the open end of the horse shoe shaped council. He took up his honoured place standing beside his father after she had been seated and looked her up and down.

She had been dressed in the palest of pale blues today, with a dove grey under sleeves and a thin silver diadem, showing her station, even though she could not wear her ancestral circlet. Her hair had been brushed out, and a narrow pendant shaped as silver leaves graced her neck. She looked stunning, despite the fact that she had barely a bloom in her white cheeks.

His father opened the meeting with the traditional greeting, "You elves are chosen by us, your King. Do you promise to serve my realm honestly as you advise me?"

"Sire, we will serve you and your realm." The council members were more alert than usual. Normally their faces showed only the carefully schooled 'non-expression' used to hide boredom and other offensive emotions but today they leaned forward in their chairs eager for the news the lady would bring of their enemy.

"My lady, can you tell us who attacked your castle, and how?"

Her eyes closed briefly and a flicker of anguish flashed through her face as she remembered, "They were men of the southlands sire. They had been bothering our people for weeks but there had only been scouts sighted. We prepared our army but we were too few; before, an army was not necessary, as we lived so high in the mountain we thought they would not reach us. They came in great numbers one night but were repulsed by archers from the walls. We suffered losses and we were tending the wounded when they returned the next day. They had prisoners with them. Elf children. Twin boys and their small sister. The killed them in front of the walls. They were screaming and screaming but too young to reach the minds of any but their mother. She was in the castle. She had been visiting with family. It was terrible. She died of grief. The next day they returned in force."

The council members were shocked and respected the lady's wish for a few quiet moments. Elf children were a rare joy for such a long lived race and twins was almost unheard of. However, Legolas was confused. Surely only the very old and wise could communicate through each others' minds.

Another council member evidently had more knowledge than Legolas on the subject. "So it is true," he exclaimed, hissing through his teeth, "The people of Elshadeth are the true blood."

The Lady let out a soft sigh, "Were the true blood. My people no longer walk this earth. I am the only remainder of the blood." A single tear rolled down her cheek but one of the King's advisors broke in "May I ask how there is a last survivor. How did you survive this terrible fate?"

"I was outside the castle walls, high in the mountains. I had been visiting a remote settlement where there was sickness, and they needed nursing. I had only an honour guard with me, and when I received my fathers message I left immediately and,"

The advisor who had last spoken leant forward eagerly, "Then you were still linked to his mind when the enemy broke in. Did you see the leader of the army, what did he say to your father?"

The girl took a deep, shuddering breath, "He was a huge creature, black with armour showered in the blood of my people. He must have stood seven foot high at the shoulder, and he was like no Orc I have ever seen before. He spoke in their tongue to my father; they were looking for me but had accounted for my brothers, my little sister, and my mother; all were slain. Their sole purpose was to wipe out our bloodline. They asked him where I was but he did not say," she tried to stifle a sob, "They tortured him! My mind was linked with his and I could do nothing when we encountered the orcs. My men laid me in a cave, hiding me from them and when I came to my senses they were dead. It was so terrible. My father was screaming, he was screaming my mother's name. He would not tell them where I was even when they...they…" she broke off, unable to continue and Legolas inwardly heaped curses onto the dark one. His cruelty was unimaginable.

He was brought back to the council with a jolt when the persistently inquisitive councillor ventured a further question. His face was slightly twisted, and he sneered as he asked, "A cave? You were able to hide from Orcs in a cave? Would they not check?"

Legolas was about to reprimand him but was stopped by the lady herself. She stood unassisted, anger lending her strength, her face white and taut, "You dare suggest I lie? I Rennes; Daughter of Elshadeth? I tell you my men saw the orcs approaching over the rocks from afar and were able to lay me down at the farthest reaches of a rock cave, above the snowline, where the light leaps off the ground and sickens Orcs. Do you not believe me?"

The King waved the advisor to sit down, glaring at him. "My councillor will council me no more if he thinks he may break the laws of politeness in my courtroom. My lady I believe your story, but you have not yet told me how you received so grievous a wound, were you attacked further?"

"The wound comes from an attack by the wildings on a hamlet I begged lodging at. I and mine hosts fought them off, but at great cost to themselves. I left them to head to their winter safe house and continued on; as I was sure they would return, for they sought me out. I believe the wildings are heavily united with the dark."

The King looked only slightly perturbed at this news, but Legolas knew that his father was inwardly calculating exactly what this would cost them, maintaining his outer mask only for the sake of good manners. The wildings were a lower race of men, who did not have the intelligence to farm or build, so wandered the mountain ranges and plains, searching for food and shelter where they could find it, often stealing it from honest working folk. Although a lone wilding was not dangerous, they were numerous and had no sense of conscience, led only by animal instinct.

"My advisors, what say you to this news? What course shall we take against this further show of Sauron's power?"

"Your majesty, I advise you to rally your defences in Mirkwood. Call in your scouts for we shall need every archer to fight if Sauron indeed sends his army." This was from the older elf who had questioned the girl's truthfulness before, and Legolas knew him to be conservative and withdrawing in his ways. The king favoured him with a cold glance.

"You would not have me send news to our allies; Lothlorien and Rivendell? To shrink from the darkness stops you from finding the light, and we will need each other to so that."

"We must send messengers to our allies, but let them be boys, who we shall not feel the lack of too harshly when it comes to the fight." The advisor who had thus spoken was only slightly younger than the first and their shared reluctance to the scheme was obvious, even through the elven masks of tranquillity. Perhaps a human would not notice it, but the place reeked of their unwillingness to help the other forces of light.

Legolas's father was angry now, his fury adding ice to the words as only his father could do, as Legolas remembered well from childhood. "Send children? Send children to defend a message which could save thousands of lives? I will send our most intelligent warriors, whose fleetness of foot and quickness of bow is beyond all others. I shall send my son!"

Legolas looked up in astonishment. Legolas was his only son, a precious gift to an Elf but never before had he heard such praise from the lips of his father. He knew his father valued his skills but to be trusted with so great a task! It was incredible. He bowed and murmured his acquiescence and thanks to his father.

"And you, greybeard, shall attend him, to add your experience to Elrond's council." The advisor, if Legolas had not dismissed fear as unelvish, looked frightened, and Legolas realised with inner amusement that he had probably not left the forest for centuries.


	4. the journey begins

Later that night, as Legolas was packing his frugal baggage and checking all arrows to see that they carried his three feathers at the ends, his father entered the stables and sat down on one of the ornately carved benches that served the grooms when they rested. When Legolas had finished packing, as was proper, he turned to his father, giving an almost imperceptible bow as his rank dictated.

"My son, who have you chosen to accompany you on your journey?" He named the elves, who had for the main part been his companions in childhood and who he trusted indefinitely.

The King nodded his approval He leaned forwards and whispered hurriedly in elvish.

"You will have one more warrior riding with you," he beckoned Legolas closer, "Rennes travels with you. My closest advisor and I have decided she must leave this forest, for the enemy know she is here and will attack soon. We can defend ourselves, but a treacherous hand in the confusion of battle could easily end her life. And that is important; she must survive. I cannot tell you why but she must. She will leave with you, disguised, but you may tell your men once you are outside the forest. I have given her a message for Elrond that only she can carry, and he may choose to tell you all, but I would counsel you not to ask her yourself." His face softened and he kissed Legolas's forehead tenderly, father to son, "Ride fast, we all depend on you."

Legolas mulled over his fathers parting words as he stood outside the stable among the readied horses and his hand picked companions. Although his breath turned to steam the moment it touched the cold morning air, he was not cold. It was one of the elven gifts that they should not feel the cold and he was grateful for it, although he wore his grey cloak also.

The king's advisor was late, and the riders were impatient. It had been agreed that Rennes would only come out of the dark stable as they were ready to leave because the king did not wish Greybeard to know she was going, as he was suspicious of the cantankerous old counsellor. Legolas had not spoken to her again and he hoped she was strong enough for the journey so soon after her near fatal injury. The King's touch was powerful, and she had shown all signs of reacting well to it but he did not want to overstrain her.

Finally the old man arrived, clad in impractical velvet, but at least it was a dark green and would still be dull enough to affect a rough camouflage, though he would have preferred a more neutral colour. They mounted their horses and Legolas gave the signal to move off, Rennes slipping out to ride at the rear of the file.

His greatest friend, Farlin, slid a sideways glance over to Legolas, "Who is our mystery friend?" he whispered. His voice blended with the mist that hung over the ground, and would not have been heard by the people behind them. Legolas only shook his head, requesting silence from his friend. "When we reach the edge of the forest."

Although Farlin had noticed the addition to their party, the other elves would not have done so. Farlin had only thought it strange because he was second in command, and had been there when Legolas drew up the list of companions, and even if they had, they would not have thought it anything out of the ordinary, as Rennes' face was almost utterly obscured by her hood.

When they drew to the edge of the forest, Legolas held up his hand and the group stopped, reining in their horses as smoothly as they would have done on foot. It was for their skill and loyalty that Legolas had decided to tell them outright. It would have made him feel dishonourable to have not taken them into his trust. He motioned to them to form a ring, and they gathered around him, Greybeard and Rennes as expertly as the rest of them.

"My friends, I am about to tell you a secret, but if it passes outside this party by any means, then your life is forfeit and you may have also forfeited our lives as well." Legolas waited while they took this in, with almost imperceptible signs of curiosity beneath their solemn masks. Legolas looked quickly at the advisor, but was unable to see any expression on Greybeard's face.

"Our companion is unknown to us and must stay this way to everyone else we meet, including our kinsmen. The Princess Rennes is to accompany us on our journey and we are to protect her with all our lives if need be." He beckoned the lady forward and she urged the horse two steps forward, so it's head protruded from the ring of other's. She pulled off the hood of her cloak and looked around the circle, a slightly defiant note in her eyes, as though daring any of those present to contest her right to travel with them.

Legolas detected a slight note of irritation in Greybeard's steel blue eyes and he grinned internally. Even if the counsellor had wanted to stop her departure he would be so well watched that he would never be able to slip off into the forest without their notice.

Their journey across the open plain was quick, and by the next morning they had arrived on the rocky plateau that rose to form the mountains. They had not slept, using their elvish endurance to stay alert and Legolas was only just beginning to feel the ache of weariness in his body as the sun peeked over the far horizon. The elves' slim frames hid a great strength. Nevertheless, Legolas was pleased enough with their progress to allow them and their horses rest until the sun was higher in the sky, as this would also risk less detection due to the dangerous hordes of goblins, orcs and trolls that roamed the uplands after dark.

He took first watch, as was proper for the leader, and Farlin said he would take over for the second. They did not wish all to be asleep at once, even if they slept with their eyes open, as Legolas no longer trusted Greybeard. Some of the party chose to stay standing while they slept but most preferred the ground, even if it was bare rock. Legolas ensured that Rennes chose a central position to rest in, then settled into an alert posture, sitting on a rock, so as to present less stark a silhouette to the skyline.

His eyes changed from the bright blue that they normally were to a more subdued grey, his cloak wrapped around him and his hood covering his blonde hair, he melted into the rocks, as his companions had already done. It would be very hard for any enemy to spot them, and even if they did there would be no chance of them coming undetected.

As the sun rose higher into the sky, bathing the mountains in a clear light and making the snow on the peaks sparkle like cut glass, Legolas kept his eyes open, despite the slight drowsiness that the warming sun lent him. When Rennes woke he was alerted immediately, though she made only the slightest of noises. When he turned around, she had raised herself to sit on a rock, revelling in the glow of the dawn.

He smiled to see her childlike happiness in the sun and she smiled back, the first time he had seen her do so.

"In my home, there is so little warmth from the sun because we live so high in the mountains," she winced with pain at her mistake of using the present tense to describe those who had departed. "It was beautiful though, even without the sun."

She looked at her feet, seemingly unwilling to say more but he was content to sit in silence, and after a few minutes suggested that they wake the others, as time had passed more swiftly than he had thought. She agreed and began waking the other elves, and offering Lembas bread to them, while he woke the King's counsellor, and readied the horses.

When they left, after only a few moments delay, he found that she rode beside him, though they would have to switch to single file soon enough. He complimented her on her skill at riding, and began to talk about the horse she was riding.

"I rode him when I was younger, and he was smaller. He's a lovely horse but tends to try and eat too many sweet things."

"Oh, he's been so obedient to me so far. You must thank your father for lending him to me."

"It was no trouble." Legolas looked sideways at her. He was not deceived by her mask of serenity. It was clear she was hiding deep sorrow beneath. She caught him looking at her, and looked quickly away. He was also embarrassed, averting his gaze hastily. She really was the most beautiful elf he had ever seen, so different from the treacherously near death lady who he had held at sword point mere days ago. It was hard for him to think of her as someone he did not need to be protected, so great was her need for comfort when she woke from the death-sleep.

However, she seemed highly skilled in riding, looked as fresh as when they had left the forest, and undaunted by the journey they still had ahead of them. She still carried the sword she had held when he first saw her and a short knife also. He recognised the arrows in her quiver; they were the work of one of the most skilled fletchers in Mirkwood, who also made his arrows, though his had a signature carved on them. Her bow was long, but was still dwarfed by his that hung on his back.

He hoped that she could use her arsenal, but the comfortable way in which the quiver rested on her back suggested that she was at least highly skilled in archery. He decided to use this as an opening to the now slightly awkward silence hanging over them.

"Were you taught the use of the bow in the mountains, Princess?"

"I was taught by my father's warriors in the bow and the short sword, to defend myself against the wild animals in the area, but I have not had much cause to use the skills, and I have never fought with a long sword."

Legolas nodded; his sisters had not been taught the long sword either, and had only a passing skill with the short sword, but they had gone to dwell in Lothlorien, serving the Lady Galadriel and they needed few weapons in that sanctuary.

Rennes seemed to take his silence as waiting, and she spoke again.

"The longsword should have gone to my brother, but he died in the castle. It should never have come to me; if my father had known it would he would have taught me also."

"When we reach Rivendell, I shall teach you, if you will allow me."

She very slightly inclined her head, her face slightly pink, "If I remain long enough I would be honoured."

Legolas pondered her rather strange answer. He had been under the impression that she was to remain in Rivendell for as long as possible, on the reasoning that enemies would be likely to fight their way through Lothlorien and Mirkwood before reaching the last homely house, as the mortals called it. He was surprised that she seemed to think it so temporary that there would not even be time to teach her the rudiments of the sword first. Obviously she could not hope to become very skilled in the time, but it would be better than nothing.


	5. fighting in the mountains

They did not rest in the mountains that night, but kept riding, their pace hardly slackening due to the sure footedness of the horses and their own excellent night vision. A few hours before dawn, Legolas called a halt. He had heard something, a murmur in the ground that could be only the rock settling but might be something worse.

His men got off the horses, and they retreated round a sharp bend they had just traversed. They would at least have the element of a surprise attack. There was a rank stench to the air here, despite the altitude and the crisp cold weather. The rumble was the sound of feet; perhaps 30 or 40 of the foul goblins by their stench were coming up the track. There was nowhere to hide, despite Legolas's wish to avoid trouble. He drew his sword, as did five of the other elves, and the other four warriors retreated and put arrows to their bows.

There were twelve of them, though the councillor, as tradition dictated carried only a long wooden staff that Legolas suspected he did not know well how to use. Rennes had her bow out as well, and had been ushered to the back also, to stand beside Greybeard. Her face was calm and Legolas felt proud of her courage and fortitude as she faced battle. If it was only thirty they could almost certainly withstand them with no loss of elvish life but if there were forty he did not know if he could avoid a wounded elf.

The bow strings were taut, the swords unsheathed. It would be hard fighting in moments. As the first orcs rounded the outcrop of rock, the archers let fly and with a sharp cry of surprise the foremost beasts died, shafts buried in the soft leather armour they wore across their chests. Legolas led the charge, his sword meeting flesh with a hiss of metal through the cold air.

He turned from the first foe to the now readied orcs, who now had their weapons out; iron swords with cruelly bent tips forged in the goblin caves. As he slashed at the creatures, cleaving limb from body with every stroke, arrows rained down on the enemy. It seemed the orcs had no archers and Legolas was thankful; in the melee, elven archers were the only ones who stood at a distance, cringing sheath from above.

Legolas could see Farlin, in the centre of a mass of orcs, making fine work with his weapon, but Legolas could see that the orcs numbers were great. They were giving ground, and retreating almost imperceptibly towards the archers who guarded their backs. Legolas retreated until he felt the rock wall behind him and swung his sword in a wide arc, hearing screams of pain as its edge bit into the orcs.

In the slight breath of rest that followed this, he saw the archers had drawn their swords also, being almost too close to risk more archery and no short range attack. Rennes had also drawn her knife and Legolas registered in the back of his mind an appreciation for such keen metal, and so graceful a blade. On her face was written conflict; she could see that she could help the elves in the fight, but was frightened of the danger, after all, she was supposed to be the blood, or some other obviously special person. He could not blame her for holding back.

But then, he was recalled to his battle, by a thrust of an orcish blade. He jumped lightly aside, just missing death, and brought his guard up, returning once more to his dealing out of oblivion to the foul creatures. He did not know how much longer he had continued to fight them off until he next glanced at Rennes. He was horrified to see that an Orc, bigger than the rest, was attacking her with a longsword, which only the leaders of the bands had.

She was trying her best to defend herself with the knife she had but he could reach her from further away than she could touch him from, and he was pressing his advantage viciously.

As the tip of his blade snaked under her guard, flipping away her sword, she gave a cry of pain as it bit into her just below the rib, but she jumped back to avoid more damage, until she was hemmed in to a corner. Trapped, she summoned her obviously almost exhausted supplies of energy and struggled to draw her father's long sword from the sheath, but she was really not tall enough for such a weapon, and only succeeded in handling the blade with difficulty.

The Orc evidently knew she was his, for he allowed himself the luxury of laughter, as he surveyed his hopeless victim. But Rennes would not give up so easily and with a cry of doomed courage charged her opponent. He did not bring up his sword in time to save himself from a cut on the arm, but he rallied quickly and brought his sword down with an angry bellow, intending on dispatching the lady, but she brought the sword up, and it held.

The strength of the blade must have been incredible, for the force holding it up was weak indeed. The Orc was pushing down, and Legolas was knocked out of his trance by the realisation that if he, her nearest ally, did not help her then she would die.

He hacked through the beasts that surrounded him with speed only an elf could deliver, and reached the Orc just in time to sever the head from the body, with one swift stroke. The body stood for one long moment, as all eyes turned towards the pair, and then slowly toppled backwards. As one, the orcs turned tail and ran. They were cowards at heart, and now that their leader was dead they would not stay. The sun would soon light the ways, and they hated the sun, and feared it's rays. They were gone.

The captain's head rolled onto its face, and Legolas delivered a vicious kick that sent it down the mountainside. Rennes was almost as pale as she had been when he first saw her but she was busying herself with the cleaning of her blades. Other elves went to the fallen enemies to reclaim their arrows from the bodies, and dealing out mercy to those alive.

There were wounds among their company, but none were serious and even Rennes' cut, which had looked deep would heal with the elven swiftness once she was able to rest, not even leaving a scar.


	6. a puzzling welcome

The sight of Rivendell nestling in the green valley was a sight truly welcome to the travellers when at last they reached it. Legolas had visited here often before, as had his warriors and the King's advisor, but he remembered the impact it had had upon him when he first laid eyes on it, as a very young child. He had not been able to fully appreciate the beauty and the security it offered, but he had still been able to feel a happiness that the view brought. He allowed Rennes a few moments to gaze upon it, but he knew that their mission was important, made more urgent still by the attack upon them on the road, which he was sure had not just been by chance. Such large companies of the enemy were rare outside their caverns.

Rennes' face was lit by the glow of the dawn; the swift horses had carried them over the remaining mountains to Rivendell with hardly a rest and they arrived just as the sun was kissing the spires of the last homely house. She smiled through her weariness, tiny dimples appearing in her cheeks. Legolas and Farlin, who had halted their horses either side of hers, smiled to see her joy and she included them in her benevolence, bestowing upon them a look of gratitude.

"I thank you, my lords, for granting me sight of this most splendid house, but I would not hold you back from rest further."

She urged on her horses and they continued, reminiscing over past visits to Lord Elrond's home, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Greybeard joined in as well, speaking of when he had been younger, before Legolas had even been born, when he had spoken with Elrond, discussing legends and myths and the first war against the darkness. When he turned to this, the party became more sombre, and a chill passed through them, despite the warm sunlight.

"He knew all along of the weakness of men, but he trusted in them and that is where it led. The ring has vanished, and the dark lord once again gathers his forces, and shall we have peace for much longer? Doubt strikes my heart there." He shifted into a more comfortable position on his saddle and the elves were silent. It was not polite or necessary to speak so disrespectfully of the man who would soon be their host.

Abruptly, Legolas held up his hand and the group halted as an elf let himself down from a tree branch ahead of them. An arrow was fitted to his string, and the point was directed towards them, but his expression belied the weapon.

"I will bid you fair welcome, travellers, if you will give me your names to pass to Lord Elrond." Legolas understood the formality, as his father also required it in his kingdom.

"W e are travellers from Mirkwood. I am Legolas, son of **Thraundil, **this is my father's councillor Greybeard and these, my worthy companions are brave warriors from the same realm."

"And may I have also the name of My lady?"

Legolas glanced at Rennes and she stepped forward. "I am a messenger to Lord Elrond. Tell him that I am the blood, and he will let me pass."

The stranger elf bowed, and gave a high, luting call, causing another elf to reveal himself, and run down the path towards the house. The other elf retreated a few paces and stood with an expression on his face as of calm water, which is stirred by nothing, yet hides everything beneath it's surface.

Presently, the messenger came running lightly up the track again, bowed low to the visitors, and gave them formal welcome,

"My lords and lady, I bid you welcome to Rivendell, and ask that you follow me to my Lord Elrond, who waits to give you fairer welcome than I may do." He led the way, jogging in front of their horse. When they reached an arched doorway, Legolas swung himself down from his horse, and his companions followed suit, the messenger giving his hand to Rennes to help her with admirable gallantry.

Lord Elrond stood on the steps to greet them, his daughter Arwen and her brothers by his side. Legolas had spent many days with them as a child so was unawed by their very ceremonial civility; he knew they would be pleasant and talkative as soon as they had greeted their guests. All bowed, saving the two ladies, and Elrond gestured to the waiting herald to show the soldiers to their apartments. He stepped forwards and smiled at Greybeard, asking one of his sons to take the councillor to his chamber, and then turned to Legolas and Rennes.

"Your highness, you look well, and you seem taller even than last time. Can it be that you have surpassed your father in height?" His voice became more solemn, "I thank you for your escort of this lady here, and I ask that you meet me in council soon. You have a wise head on your young body and we may need your wisdom. But you look tired and my daughter will take you to your chamber. I will speak with you later."

Arwen stood ready to show him the way, but Legolas was anxious to know what Rennes would do, and made as though to linger but she grasped his arm lightly and he had no choice but to follow her. As she led the way through the trees he tred to prise information out of her.

"Lady Arwen, what do you know of my companion?"

She feigned misunderstanding, "Why Greybeard is an honoured and wise councillor I have heard much of his …ah… prudence." Legolas smiled at the nearest she would come to insulting the cautious elf but would not be put off by a joke.

"I mean the princess Rennes. Your father confides much in you, you must know something of her." Arwen looked slightly worried,

"My father told me he will tell you all if you wished, but only when he chooses." At his look, she hastily continued, "Which will be soon I believe. I can tell you nothing that will help you, for I know nothing. All I know is that she is very beautiful and very courageous to have travelled all the way to Mirkwood from her father's kingdom, so very far for her for a…" she broke off suddenly, and Legolas grinned. So she did know something! But she wasn't going to tell him, obviously, he turned the subject to lighter things, deciding to questions one of her brothers if Lord Elrond did not solve the mysteries before then.


	7. food and song and secrets untold

Thank you to my lovely reviewers amrawo and anon. Rennes is pronounced like the beginning of renaissance, with no S sound at the end. Why will become evident later.

Please review because I need encouragement to keep writing!

In the evening, after Legolas had spent the day resting in the midst of his beautiful surroundings, wandering through the gardens surrounding the house or turning the pages of the old books in the library, he was recalled from his peace by Arwen who led him down to the dining hall. He was placed in an honourable position, but one where he would be afforded entertaining conversation and merriment, next to Elrond's sons.

Rennes sat at Elrond's table, and he was surprised to see that other diners included five halflings, or hobbits as they are known to themselves, only one of which he knew; Bilbo, an old one who had passed through Mirkwood in a company of dwarves, long ago and had retrodden his path recently as well. Legolas remembered him as an entertaining fellow, bright and open and able in conversation, even in elvish. He seemed to be recounting some of his exploits even now, to the other four, who seemed much younger, though one was not as joyful as his youth suggested. Legolas wondered at this one's sombre mood, but was distracted by the sight of two other guests; Elessar and Gandalf, neither of whom he had thought to see.

Elessar was known to him as Aragorn, descendent of Isildur and a true elf friend. He was not surprised to see how close he attended on the Lady Arwen, and she on him. He had long suspected that Elrond's daughter had inherited more traits from her father's human side than she showed, and though her beauty was likened to her Grandmother Galadriel's, Aragorn was a brave man, and with the extra life granted to him by his heritage he could see why she would find him very attractive.

Gandalf however, was a surprise entirely. He had not heard news of the wizard in many months and was concerned by the seemingly serious turn his conversation with Elrond had taken, especially when he saw that Rennes was between them, also looking solemn, and he suspected it was her they were discussing. To interrupt their conversation would be intolerably rude of him though; he could not put himself forward in such a way.

Elrond's son Elrohir was beside him to distract him anyway,

"They eat well don't they?" Legolas was startled, until he saw Elrohir's gaze was still on the Hobbits.

"For their size I am amazed they do not rend their stomachs apart indeed. It is a long time since I saw Bilbo properly, and it seems his companions eat even more than he!" he looked at Elrohir questioningly and the other Elf looked uncomfortable.

"He has come to rest in his old age."

"With four young and boisterous companions? That does not seem relaxing." Elrohir shifted uncomfortably again. Elves did not like to lie at all, but Legolas could see Elrohir was trying to hide something as clearly as he had seen Arwen attempt to.

"Glorfindel brought those four here, with Elessar; the dark haired one, Frodo, was injured and needed my father's healing."

"They have come a long way for healing; it must have been severe indeed."

"He carried something for my father's sight. I am sure you will be told in time, but I do not want to speak of it here." Elrohir leaned over to his brother and changed the conversation to a discussion of archery, which Legolas was quickly drawn into, but he could hardly contain his curiosity into the coinciding mysteries of Rennes and now this hobbit, Frodo.

When the company left the confines of the hall to sing, he went with them but engineered his placing to stand next to Rennes. "My lady" he bowed and took her hand leading her to the edge of the gathering, near where the hobbits had gathered to listen to the singing, still clutching some bread and a fruit bowl. She was content as he was to stand aside and listen to the singing of their fellows, for which Rivendell was famed throughout Middle Earth, but he wished to do more than listen to song, he wanted to listen to answers too.

"My lady, when shall we start your weapons training? Tomorrow perhaps?" he made his voice sound casual, a difficult feat to achieve while battling his curiosity.

"So soon?" she looked slightly perturbed at the suggestion, and had the same closed faced as Elrohir and Arwen had both worn when he had questioned them.

"Why yes; it is never too soon to learn how to protect yourself, in these dangerous times."

She struggled to keep her unease under the surface as she prevaricated.

"I am still very tired from our journey. My wound has not quite healed yet, I don't wish to give myself more immediately." She smiled but distracting as her beauty was he was tenacious in his quest.

"Yes, it would have been better to have allowed yourself rest rather than talking with Elrond and Gandalf for the whole day." She blushed slightly at his cool observation but turned her gaze away from his face, onto the singers.

Her profile was even more beautiful, the long lashed deep blue eyes fixed on the group, the set of her lips and chin determined, but still soft and feminine, and slightly frightened. Legolas felt his heart go out to her, this princess who had been so suddenly plunged into a world or danger, confiding only in the wise, not the compassionate. He reached out a hand and laid it upon her shoulder, offering comfort.

"My lady, what trouble so you hide? Please tell me how I can help you."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fear.

"You can't help me. No one can. This is something I must do myself. I can't let you help me." She brushed past him, tears beginning to fall as she ran through the arch into the gardens, and Legolas could feel Elrond's accusing eyes on his back as he looked after her.

Please review. Ideas, criticism, encouragement all welcome!


	8. eavesdropping again Sam?

This is a very quick chapter, only a chapterette really. I just thought it was quite cute, but it wouldn't fit at the end of the last one, and the next one will be the council scene so it'll be quite long. Thank you to amrawo and wurd-god and for the correction of ElrOhir's name from my anonymous reviewer, I've changed it in the previous chapters. As always please read _and_ review.

Elrond waylaid Legolas as he tried to follow Rennes, his indecision over what was the right course of action allowing the older elf to catch him.

"Your highness that was not well done. I would have told you all at the council tomorrow." Legolas was irritated at his anger and angry at himself as well.

"You should have told me; I would not have pressed her if I had one word from you on the situation. My father said you would tell me but I have not been trusted with anything. I have proved myself over and over again. Why don't you trust me?"

Elrond face was calm, but Legolas knew that was only through years of self control. If anyone looked over the two elves would look as though they were only having a slight disagreement, perhaps about the singing.

"Legolas, I am sorry; I should have told you, but Rennes asked me not to tell anyone apart from Gandalf, whom she knows. If she gives me leave I will release the information at a council tomorrow, but you must not tell anyone this, or speak of the council to anyone."

He strode off, after Rennes, Legolas thought, and he was left standing by himself in the quickly emptying gardens. He heard snores from behind and turned to find the hobbits asleep. The dark haired one, Frodo, had his head on another's shoulder, and was rubbing his chest in his sleep, not seeming to be having pleasant dreams at all. The two smaller and, if the word can be applied, thinner, hobbits were sleeping with their heads together, and looked to be having far more pleasant dreams. Of breakfast, probably, thought Legolas ruefully.

Just as he was turning to leave them to their snores, he was caught by the slight suspicion that he could hear only three regular whistles and snorts. He returned his gaze to them, and was not surprise to see the sandy haired hobbit regarding him through half closed lids, but realising he was being observed, quickly shut them entirely and give an exaggerated wheeze. Legolas laughed softly and left him in peace.

As I said, blink and you'd miss it.


	9. Revelations in council

This chapter was hard to write, because I had the movie version in my head, but I tried to include bits from the book too. I don't know if it ended up coming out as a bit confused, but I hope it's OK. Tell me what you think.

The chairs were still mainly empty when Legolas arrived, but to his disgust he saw Greybeard already seated. The councillor was being told at the same time as he was? Nevertheless he greeted him courteously and sat down beside him. He was absolutely burning with curiosity behind the calm mask he wore. As other elves entered he greeted them as well, recognising elves from Lothlorien as well as Rivendell, notable for their fair hair and tranquil rather than neutral expressions. Legolas had been to Lothlorien several times, and had been amazed every time to feel the serenity that permeated every tree there.

He was not surprised to see Elessar enter quietly through a side door, seating himself at the very end of the row of seats, as always discreet and undesirous of attention. He gave a slight nod to the company, though not many nodded back. Not all were privy to the complicated events and ancestry that had led the rightful heir of Gondor to live as a ranger. More elves entered, including Galdor of the Grey Havens and Erestor, Elrond's chief counsellor. A man entered next, evidently the steward's son Boromir, who Legolas knew little about, save that he was a brave warrior and his father's favourite. He seemed awkward in the company of so many elves though, and went immediately to the seat beside Elessar, who gave him short greeting, which Boromir returned. It must be strange, Legolas reflected, to come to a place where your kind is few.

Then he felt himself stiffen in his seat, and many elves around him do the same. If men were rare in Rivendell then Dwarves were even more so. They were heavily arrayed in weaponry, though Rivendell was peaceful, and wore surly expressions behind their beards. Most were old, with the ugliness that comes for some races when they advance in years, but one was young. He swaggered to his seat, his bravado undaunted by the room of elves, his small eyes darting from one to another beneath his shock of rust coloured hair. Vast wrinkles covered his face and his hand was tightly clenched around an uncovered battleaxe, taller than he was. His defiant stance was slightly spoilt by the height of the chairs, from which his legs dangled.

The last to enter were Gandalf and Elrond with Frodo between them. His short stature was further emphasised by their great height. His fright was obvious at the array of faces, all belonging to bodies taller than his own. Gandalf had a comforting hand on his shoulder, and they took their seats at the opposite side of the chamber from Elessar. Elrond took the chair reserved for him as adjudicator, and the council began.

"Here my friends, is the Hobbit Frodo son of Drogo. Few have come hither through greater peril or on an errand more urgent.

Friends, we are met here to discuss the future of Middle Earth, a future that we all share in. In our presence is the greatest source of power in the world. Without it the dark lord's power is finite. He calls it to him, and the nine are seeking it as we speak. Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

The dark hobbit rose, and walked slowly over to the pedestal where it was to lie. He let it go reluctantly, his hand seeming to wish to keep it longer, but when he was rid of it and had returned to his seat, with no prospect of having to touch it again, he sat easier, and there was less tension in his features than before. Legolas again saw Gandalf clap a hand on his shoulder, after watching very closely the laying down of the ring.

He did not have much time to notice these details, however, before his attention was claimed by the ring. It was beautiful. The metal had a lustre that he had never seen before, even in the finest trinkets. Such beauty. The gold was almost yellow in colour, brighter than most specimens and it was so close, he could almost reach out and touch it…

"My friends" Elrond's voice broke into his mind, clearing the mists that had gathered there. Legolas was surprised to find the ring was actually further away than he thought, and saw others also shaking their heads as though to clear them. "You have done well to come. You will hear today all that you need in order to understand the purposes of the Enemy. There is naught that you can do, other than resist, with hope or without it. But you do not stand alone. You will learn that yours is only part of the trouble of the entire western world. The Ring! What shall we do with the ring, the least of the rings, the mere trifle as His messenger has said it is? That is the doom that we must deem."

There were mutterings around the room and Legolas saw that the dwarves in particular were not at all happy. The younger stood up, though because of his small height this did not make much difference, and glared round at the assembly.

"What you _elves_, seem to have overlooked, perhaps because your heads are so high, is that we dwarves have already had trouble from the dark quarter. We have been approached by Sauron's agents and all you worry about is how to destroy a bit of jewellery. That's easy!" Before anyone could react, he had grasped his axe in both his ands and brought it swinging over his head towards the ring, He was catapulted back onto the floor, breathing heavily and the axe head shattered into dozens of pieces. He roared in rage as people rushed to help him to his feet, astonished by the demonstration of the ring's power.

Elrond restored order with difficulty, as the mutterings had increased to a point verging on panic. "My lords" continued Gandalf, "this is evil incarnate, but also in Rivendell we host the power of good. Few know the presence of this power and it does not grace our council, though I will produce it later. We must destroy the evil, and reinstate the good, or descend into darkness and ruin."

"What is the good which can undo so great an evil?" Boromir asked, his voice demanding and arrogant. Only Elrond, Gandalf and Elessar seemed to know the answer. They sat with quiet calm while for the whisperings to die down then Elrond spoke again.

"For now suffice to say that it must be taken away from here, through the territory of evil itself, just as the ring must."

"You would have these vitals carried through Mordor?" Boromir had been startled out of his arrogance. He ran a hand through his dark hair and his grey eyes were narrowed as he glared through half closed lids at Elrond, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. The eye does not sleep. The Enemy will be handed evil and good without troubling himself to leave his gates. There is no way into Mordor without being captured. It would be worldwide suicide to undertake. You can not be serious!"

"Nevertheless it must be undertaken, because it is the only way to rid ourselves of the evil, and allow the good to prevail. It may be suicide for the company that carries them but it is the only chance we have. Who will take the ring?"

"I'll be damned if I let that thing rest in the hands of an elf!" Gimli was on his feet, breaking the silence that had fallen after Elrond's words.

Legolas frustration of not being given news of Rennes, coupled with the arrogance of Boromir in the presence of his rightful king and the sheer rudeness of the dwarf burst out of him.

"You shall be damned if you do not, for how can you defend Middle Earth with a broken axe!"

Suddenly the whole company was on their feet, elves and dwarves shouting at each other, Boromir adding more than his fair share and Aragorn, Elrond and Gandalf trying ineffectually to restore silence.

"Can't you see how the Enemy spreads this discord?"

"The enemy are elves!"

"The dwarf cannot see anything; He is so small!"

"I will take it."

"Elves are all talk and no action!"

"…shutting themselves away in their mines…"

"I will take it!" Finally the small voice permeated their ears, and they turned, astonished, to stare at the tiny hobbit. "I will take it," he repeated, "although I do not know the way."

Legolas felt a wave of shame wash over him to see the stalwart hobbit, ready to undertake this task with no knowledge at all of the trials he would have to undergo. He, an elf prince had thought of nothing but an ancient rivalry, had failed to control his emotions and had sunk to the level of childish insults. When Gandalf stepped forward to help Frodo and promise his companionship and Elessar followed, he followed them and as he looked down at the tiny hobbit he felt a wave of pride that even such a small being as this could combat Sauron.

"You have my bow." Frodo smiled, though somewhat fearfully, Legolas guessed he was still rather in awe of Elf kind. He grinned back, but this swiftly turned to resignation, as Gimli also stepped forward.

"And my axe!" Boromir was ready to accompany them also, despite his serious misgivings, but just as Elrond was going to speak again, the fresh silence was broken. A small figure emerged from a dark corner and hastened to Frodo's side.

"Mr Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"

It was Sam, the hobbit who had pretended sleep last night, and, Legolas now realised, had probably overheard the entire conversation between Elrond and himself. He smiled at the little man's loyalty and diligence; that he would not even abandon his watch over his master in the safe halls of Rivendell. So it was with amused restraint that Elrond spoke.

"No it is hardly possible to separate you; even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not!"

This was not the last of the stowaways though. The two remaining younger hobbits came rushing out from the undergrowth, to take up posts of what they probably thought were courageous and fearsome warriors either side of their friend. Elrond sighed, and Legolas guessed he had probably had to put up with a lot from the cheerfulness of the hobbits since they had arrived.

"You nine are the protectors of Middle Earth. If you fail we are all lost, and so I charge you with the protection of the ring bearer, without thought to personal safety or racial loyalties." He glared at Gimli and Legolas "Frodo, take up the ring."

Glorfindel, who had resumed his seat beside Erestor, broke the solemn silence with the question that was in everyone's minds. "My Lord Elrond, they have the ring, but where is the Good to combat it?"

Elrond motioned to a page that stood by the door, motioning him out. The next moment, Arwen led someone into the room.

"This is your tenth companion. Protect her as you do Frodo, for even if you destroy evil, you may still be without Good."

Legolas was staring at the figure, transfixed. It was Rennes, wearing her father's sword.

Please R&R because I want to know if I have to re-write this chapter.


	10. Questions and plans

Okay, chapter 10 of my manipulation of Tolkein's characters. Thank you to those who reviewed last time, and the times before that; wurd-god, SincerelyYours23, amrawo and my anonymous reviewers known to themselves as Verity Kindle and Spirit.

Legolas could not understand what Elrond was saying. Rennes? A lady was the source of all the goodness in the world? Was it possible? The council chamber was in uproar. Everyone was talking at once, but to Legolas these noises had dimmed, to sounds from a dream. His eyes were on Rennes, trying to take in the real responsibility that had been given him when he had been told to escort her from Mirkwood. If he had not moved to stop that sword blow from the Orcish captain… he did not want to think of it. He could not comprehend how so slight a person could tip the balance of power in Middle Earth.

The fellowship stood apart, all but Elessar and Gandalf looking stunned at the news. Would they have to escort a woman to Mordor? Boromir looked slightly derisive of the idea, as if he was doubtful that Rennes would be able to reach the mountains, let alone Sauron's country. The hobbits were puzzled, but they seemed less shocked than the others and Legolas suspected they just did not understand anything further than that Rennes would be coming with them. They would not look on her as unequal to the task because they were so small themselves. Gimli looked astonished and regarded Elrond suspiciously, as though he were playing an elaborate joke against the dwarves.

Elessar was the one to calm the frenzy. He smiled at Rennes and beckoned her to join them. He spoke to her, and although his voice was quiet it soon commanded the attention of the whole room.

"I know your story my lady, and I commend your courage and fortitude." He turned her to the room, as though presenting her at an assembly. "The lady Rennes has journeyed from her home, alone and kinless following the slaughter of her people. She went to Mirkwood, and was escorted hence by the Prince Legolas, son of King Thranduil. She had crossed dangerous country and will not slow us on our route, nor prove a burden. Her ancestor is Elshadeth, who was sent by the righteous Maiar onto the earth to be a last defence against the darkness spread by Melkor and his servant Sauron. Their existence is a closely guarded secret that should not be whispered outside this room, but Rennes has been forced into revealing herself by necessity. She is the last of her line, and must go to the very summit of Mount Doom, where the evil of Sauron was fully forged, to reset the delicate scales which her family has balanced since time began."

"And what happens there?" this was Boromir, who stood with his hands upon his hips, not willing to take this story on faith.

"That we do not know, and probably will only find out once Rennes reaches the summit. Her people have never been so thoroughly diminished before, and although their ancient lore gives hints, there is nothing that will conclusively give us our answer, especially as their lore master is dead, and the main record store was burned. Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel who know the most about their people will continue searching for answers while we prepare for our journey. We will leave in two months." With these words Gandalf ended the council of Elrond, though it would be long remembered as the beginning of the end for the darkness.

What was not remembered was the second council, a secret meeting in the cellars of Rivendell, where those present numbered only ten. It had been decided that only those going would know the route the Fellowship would take to get to Mordor, to avoid the risk of spies giving their direction to either the traitor Saruman or Sauron himself. It had been shown by the attack upon Rennes when leaving Mirkwood that information was being leaked by someone. No one was to be trusted. It was the only way to ensure secrecy.

They would make for Lothlorien after crossing the pass of Caradhras and it was there that Galadriel would be able to tell Rennes of the findings she and Elrond had made. Legolas had noticed that whenever this subject was touched upon, a fleeting expression of pure terror would cross her face and he was sure that Elrond had not seen fit to inform them of all that he knew.

In Lothlorien Galadriel would also be able to tell them the best way to continue, as the shadow of darkness would not halt while they travelled, and some areas that had been regarded as safe havens might turn perilous, such as the kingdom of Rohan, where Théoden King reigned. None at the council had been able to bring news of this country, not even Boromir whose father was the Steward of Gondor, and their closest neighbour. All he could say, and Gandalf could add, was that the Rohirrim were tithing to Isengard… and to Mordor. If they had been giving horses, it was not thought hopeful that they were truly free of Sauron's yoke, for they revered horses for their speed and other abilities.

They were to take only one baggage pony; one that the hobbits had become rather attached to during their journey to Rivendell from Bree, which if Legolas had not known better than to listen to Pippin and Merry's descriptions of it, he would have thought it a great city with thousands of gigantic inhabitants. Bill would accompany them as far as it was possible, then the remaining baggage, hopefully greatly reduced by then, would be shared among the company. They were all to carry weapons, many of which had magical properties. The most powerful of these was the sword Rennes had been given by her father. It was the blade of the light, given by Varda, the lady of light, who had illuvátar in her face and goodness in her heart. Only she could bear and use it, as a descendent of Elshadeth, but she could not do this until she was taught. Legolas found himself having to relinquish the sole responsibility of teaching her the skills she would need as he was also to help in the hobbit's tuition, and Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli refused to be left alone with the hobbits for very long in case they were driven mad by the halflings chatter.

It was finally agreed that Legolas would teach Rennes for half the time, as she knew him and he understood better the extra skills afforded by an elvish physique, and how to exploit them. The other three would teach her for the other half, so she would be able to face men and dwarves as well, if she was forced to. It was not known how far Saruman could enter into the hearts of their current allies. If they started tomorrow, she and the hobbits would be ready by the time they must leave.

Please REVIEW. I want at least five more before I put another chapter up. I feel so alone when you don't review (sniff) please, pretty please… (Anyway I need to find a bit about how to sword fight first.)


	11. A lesson for a lady

Thanks to my four reviewers from the last chapter. I love you all. I tried to research the next bit properly, but please tell me about any sword fighting inaccuracies in your reviews. Hopefully I'm doing right by Tolkein's characters here.

The training ground at Rivendell was small, compared to his home, where constant vigilance had to be assumed to keep the resident spiders of Mirkwood at bay. Rivendell had a peaceful recent history and although all elves were proficient at the bow, and had a natural ability with other weapons because of their innate grace and fluid movement, many at Rivendell had not been trained further, especially the females.

So a small crowd had gathered around the area when Legolas arrived. Rennes was not yet there, but he was worried about her reaction. Most pupils were nervous anyway at their first session, but with an audience Rennes would not want to make any slips. She needed to be respected by these elves, for whom she was their only hope. Any mistakes would be blown out of proportion and the gossip would be fierce among the elves, and though not malicious it still had the power to upset the subject. He fervently hoped she would be an able student.

His fears were confirmed when Rennes rounded the corner, and stopped short upon seeing the gathering of spectators. Her face when she reached Legolas was a mask of reserve but her eyes were so firmly fixed on his face that it as obvious to him that she was trying to avoid eye contact with any of the unsought guests. He smiled to reassure her, though he felt less than reassured himself, and led her to the centre of the court.

She took the wooden waster practice sword he offered her, and grasped the hilt with a determined, though slightly incorrect grip. When he gently adjusted it, putting his hands over her's to show exactly the position required, he felt how taut and stiff her arms were, and decided that she would take no benefit from an immediate practical introduction to the sword, so he turned slightly, including the spectators in his audience.

"The long sword that you carry, my lady, is designed to be used without a shield, which is good, for they are unwieldy to shoulder when you also carry a bow. However, the reason for this is that the warrior would wear armour to remove the need for any other protection, and this will be far too heavy to carry with us. As this is so, your only defence must be your blade. It requires strength, agility and great power behind your weapon."

A ripple of talk ran through the group. Legolas suspected them of doubting Rennes' strength, and although he admitted to himself his own qualms on this, he could not have her discouraged. Her eyes were fixed on his own, and her chin was up, using her own defence of detachment to separate herself from her own uncertainty. She desperately needed the encouragement that at this moment only he could offer. He used the excuse of again adjusting her grip on the sword, which had slipped, to whisper in her ear.

"Your highness, you will face physically more powerful opponents, but never forget; that your strength comes from your own heart, and nothing can change that." His words had the desired affect; her face relaxed and she smiled very slightly, raising the wooden practice sword into a combat position.

"My lord, I understand your words, and I know that I am not mighty, but with yours and my lords Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli's tutelage, I will be prepared to face my enemies." A second murmur flew through the elves, and Legolas noted with satisfaction that few would now challenge her worthiness to be the heir of Elshadeth, and their saviour. Legolas grinned inwardly. She had sated the elves' curiosity and answered his more private message. Feeling thankful that she had not been entirely thrown by them, he began to demonstrate the slicing movement, which required far less power than the chopping blows that would deliver more harm.

"My lady, this is the slice, and it is the aggressive movement that requires the least strength on your part, but is still highly affective." His wooden blade swished through the air, and Rennes was quick to copy him. Her face was screwed up with effort, as she tried to execute the exact move he had made, however the wooden sword was light and she managed it quite easily.

"Excellent. This is the thrust." He demonstrated and she copied him, but it was a poor imitation and Legolas knew that it would not be enough in a real fight. He carefully positioned her arm so it was further back. "Now swing your arm forward, putting as much strength behind it as you can."

She repeated the gesture but it was still not perfect. He thought for a few minutes as she tried again and again to improve. Turning, he picked up his own sword from the side of the training circle and handed it to her, hilt first. She took it, looking slightly apprehensive and he nodded encouragement. "I think you need the extra weight of the metal to allow you to get it right. Try again."

She did so, and he was pleased to see that it was indeed better. "Well done. Now, that was basic offence, and we shall now learn basic defence. This will be easier to do with two hands to start with, because otherwise you can quite easily lose control of the sword, and perhaps injure yourself. Hold it in the combat position, like so;" He held his sword out in front of him, as though he had just finished a slicing cut. He showed her the simple parry and the more complicated deflection. Elrohir, who had been watching the display from the side of the court at Legolas's request, then stepped forward.

"Elrohir and I will now demonstrate a simple fight sequence. I want you to watch and then, if you can, to use the techniques I use against him, afterwards."

She stepped to the side and Elrohir and Legolas gripped their swords in both hands, as she would have to do. They would more normally use only one hand to hold the sword, but he wanted it to be as easy as possible to mimic. They were also using their own swords, rather than the wooden practice ones.

They circled each other, then Legolas delivered a powerful slice that would have slit Elrohir's belly, if he had not blocked it with a swift parry. He did not venture to try an offensive move, as they had agreed, and Legolas returned his parry with another cut to the shoulder, which was deflected by Elrohir, who then tried a chopping blow to the side of Legolas's neck, which he blocked with his sword, a move that enable Elrohir to force him down slightly, and was similar to the ploy used by the orc captain on Rennes in the pass. However, Elrohir was not aiming to hurt Legolas so it was easy for him to push back, and regain control of the combat.

By the time they stopped, there was a slight sheen on their foreheads, but neither was tired, and Rennes immediately stepped up to try. She copied the delayed start and Legolas mentally noted that he must remind her that this would not be available to her against a real opponent. Nevertheless, he was very impressed with her progress from the day's lesson. She did not repeat earlier mistakes, though she would not have been strong enough to force Elrohir's sword upwards, had he put his will into stopping her. She also introduced new subtleties, though he did not know if she was aware of doing so. The only real fault was that her grip kept slipping on the hilt of her sword, which was an extremely dangerous habit, as the more your hand moved, the less sturdy your grip was.

When the pair halted, He and Elrohir congratulated her, and Legolas walked her back to her room. But when she turned to thank him at the door he noticed that the faint flush the exertion had brought to her cheeks was not the only effect of the intense combat. She seemed happier now than she had been, and her mind seemed to have moved from the sombre subject of the death of her family.

"My Lady, I am pleased with your progress; not many she elves do so well with weapons, especially if they are untrained."

"Your Highness, you do me much honour by teaching me. I shall try to live up to your teaching in my lesson tomorrow, with Lord Elessar."

He smiled, and she also, and he fancied that he saw the rose come into her cheeks again.

Bookworm2011; I don't want the romance to come too quickly, as I shouldn't think Legolas would rush into anything, as he's got his whole (elfishly long) life before him, but be patient because good things come to those who wait.

Review if you have any suggestions, or think anything should be improved.


	12. Qualms of a Gondorian

So sorry for the long delay (A French exchange, Geography coursework, Mock AS levels and orals in French and Italian to prepare for got in the way.) Hope you're willing to forgive me and read the next chapter, then (if you're in a really absolving mood, there's always that little review button at the bottom!

I don't know if I have to add this every time but of course I don't own Lord of the rings; just Rennes.

The days of sword fighting continued, and Legolas found himself revelling in the company of his childhood friends, and forming bonds with his new companions also. Boromir he found silent, and slightly oppressing, but the man often surprised the elf by his open talk and easy manner when they were without the bounds of the last homely house, on hunting missions and walks. He could almost match his stride with Legolas's and although his archery had no flair he proved himself able to hit his mark as many times as any other human he had encountered, except perhaps Elessar.

The hidden heir of Isildur seemed happier with Boromir outside of Rivendell as well, and Legolas couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so suddenly suspicious, for although when Legolas had known him as a child he had been cautious, he had not had so watchful or so brooding a manner as before. He only truly seemed to throw off this mantle of solemnity when he was with the hobbits. They were cheerful companions, Legolas had to admit; they were forever talking, and laughing. He was sorry for the deeds that had brought them hither, for how long could this continue, the sweet joy in friends, games and even food. Only Frodo, the ring bearer, seemed to carry any weight on his small shoulders; the dark hobbit would sit watching his fellows, eating less and smiling rarely. It was a pain for him to carry this doom, and Legolas had noting but respect for his courage.

Only Gimli was a trial. He would strut about Rivendell, snorting at Legolas if he passed him, and if asked, would claim he was looking at the beams, the window embrasures, this or that carving. It was insufferable, but more insufferable than many things was the sound of Rennes' laughter from the practice court when Gimli was training her in the art of the axe. She would not carry a full sized war axe, but a small one that could be easily thrown, as an extra ranged weapon, should she not be able to use her bow.

She was growing more proficient at weaponry every day, as were his other pupils, the hobbits. She had succeeded in besting several of the young squires in Rivendell, and although Legolas would have thought nothing of beating one of them, he was proud that she was able to, after so short a time.

It was only two days before they were set to leave, and the tension was rising within Rivendell. Elrond and Gandalf would closet themselves away in his study, occasionally with Rennes, and talk in low tones of the journey ahead. Boromir wandered the land around Rivendell, to calm his thoughts, he said. Aragorn, as Legolas had begun to call Elessar, would wander the corridors of the artefact rooms, comforting from his dark thoughts only by Arwen, and sometimes, not even she could lift his gloom, for Legolas guessed that Elrond was displeased over their love, this love that would either tear Arwen away from her people, or from her heart. He sensed their pain, as every elf in Rivendell did, but could not but think this journey would be the test of their love; whether it would endure, or whether it would die.

He was fully aware of the reality; all of them could very easily die on this quest. Not only was their road long and weary; over the pass of Caradhras, that snow capped guardian of the Misty Mountains, then on, roughly following the Anduin river for as long as they could, then perhaps seeking shelter in Boromir's home city of Minas Tirith or simply continuing, skirting the maze of Emyn Muil and the Dead Marshes across the Dagorland, or Battle Ground as it was named in the common tongue, and entering Mordor through the Udûn plain to seek Mount Doom, and quite possibly their own doom too. It would for the most part be rough terrain, and especially joyless as they neared Mordor; the country round it blackened by the evil emanating from within.

He hoped the hobbits could keep their unrivalled cheerfulness throughout, and that he and the other warriors would be able to protect them, and Rennes, for although their weaponry was continually improving, Sauron's forces were bred to fight and were vastly superior in experience, stature and of course, blood lust. They would almost certainly find themselves fighting for their lives before long. Ten companions; only ten against the might of Mordor, and now, Isengard as well. They would have been blessed beyond imagining if they were able to complete their task at all but to do so without loss would be truly impossible.

It was said that Frodo, the ringbearer, had managed to walk for several days after he was wounded by the witch king himself, and the courage of the little men could not be doubted, nor was Rennes' bravery in question; she had walked many miles with near fatal wound, and had proved herself in the mountains, but the fact remained that this was nothing compared to the blind violence of the orcs, and their willingness to throw themselves at hopeless situations due to their sheer numbers, made him doubt in the hope the hobbits carried with them so freely.

While he was lost in these sombre thoughts, he watched the sun set over the great waterfall, making the waters rush like fire, but for once this beauty failed to touch his heart, for it reminded him of the lava that spewed from Mount Doom. He turned away from the sight, to find he was not alone. There stood Boromir, a little way away on the balcony. The man smiled when he saw Legolas looking over at him, and Legolas returned the gesture with a slight nod of his head. Evidently encouraged by this, Boromir came closer and seated himself on the bench beside the prince.

"Will you be sorry to have to leave this grandeur?" Boromir asked.

"It always pains me to leave friends behind me, but I shall see them again, I am sure." He just hoped it was not in the undying lands.

"You believe we shall succeed then?" Legolas turned quickly, alarmed by the man's voicing of his own dark thoughts.

"I do. Lord Elrond sends us, Gandalf guides us and our aim is true; do you doubt?" He employed his elvish mask of calm; there was no point in spreading the discord in his own heart throughout the hearts of others.

"Mithrandir is a wise wizard, but the way is long and there are many pitfalls even before we reach Mordor. Do you truly believe that a Halfling and a woman can defeat the power of the Eye?"

Legolas jumped from his seat and stared angrily at the man before him. "Have you not seen their courage? Have you not seen the way they learn, the way they wish to try again, though they are near falling with weariness? They are courageous, and they are the beings chosen to carry out their tasks. Are you so wrapped in the customs and manners of your own race to not be capable of appreciating the different gifts of other beings?"

Boromir looked stricken at his outburst. "Your highness I am sorry for the offence I have caused you…I did not mean to belittle them…it is just…" He turned eyes full of inner turmoil on the elf, "they are so fragile. Rennes seems like she would break if one touched her. I am afraid to feint at her in her training lest she not block it and it should rend her. And Frodo! He is as a child. Wise perhaps but so tiny. Such slight bulwarks to hold back the flood of Sauron." He paused as though lost for words, and Legolas was able to understand him. He doubted for charitable reasons; he did not wish to bring the vulnerable into danger, but it would hurt their quest none the less.

"Boromir, there are strengths hidden in them; they would not be sent if they were not able to complete the tasks allotted to them, if only for the danger that they would pose to Middle Earth."

Boromir nodded, and Legolas hoped that the seed of doubt the man harboured would not bloom, pushing his own uncertainty deep into his heart, willing himself to have faith."

Hopefully the next chapter won't have so many interferences to contend with, and you know what you have to do to make it appear faster; REVIEW (please)


	13. Leavetaking

--A/N Well children, if you're sitting comfortably I'll begin (to tell this story where everything belongs to Tolkien except Rennes, just so we're clear on that point)

Chapter 13

Legolas had been waiting for a good hour in the gatehouse, ready to leave, before everyone was finally assembled. Aragorn was there before him, savoring the dark as the falls turned to sheets of molten silver in the moonlight. He was packed even more lightly than Legolas; a ranger's sufficiency serving him well, only carrying his reforged blade, new named Andúril. Legolas had packed only spare arrows enough, hunting knives and bow. With a pony to carry the food and other necessaries, he needed very little on his person. Boromir was next to appear, looking rather surly and Legolas had to conclude that he did not relish a journey spent only with one other of his kind, and that one being a hostile figure, as he saw it, from the vantage point of the eldest son of the steward of Gondor. He was more richly dressed than the ranger or the elf, but it was practical, and the only extra weight he carried was his shield, an even, strong circle of wood overlaid with tight leather, and the great hunting horn that it was his right to carry at all times.

The Dwarf, Legolas quickly noted, had been successful in having his axe repaired since the council, for it now bore a new head, though with the same carvings as before; far better than the one he had borrowed for use in the training sessions for Rennes and the hobbits, and he alone bore a mail shirt. He seemed in a better mood than the others, less pensive, and more optimistic at the thought of leaving a place he viewed as alien, than Legolas was at leaving his kin.

Even so, Legolas could not help but be comforted by the fact that Rennes would be with them. It felt better to be two elves rather than one, and it was undeniable that she was friendly and agreeable, able to identify with everyone that would be travelling with them. Even Gimli bore her no grudge against her race, as he did to the other elves, seeming to be reassured by their mutual lack of knowledge of Rivendell's paths and customs, though she had not arrived late to the dinner hall past the first week of her stay.

His thoughts were suddenly put into flesh as Rennes rounded the corner, talking with Arwen. Arwen was dressed in a silver gown, woven with threads of palest lilac, and tied with a thick burgundy sash. She looked unhappy and Legolas could only guess that she and Aragorn had had some speech together that had displeased her, for if it were only his departure, she would have not looked so melancholy. Rennes appeared to be trying to cheer her up, one arm linked through hers, asking questions about the country through which they would travel. He had a sneaking feeling that she already knew the answers Arwen gave her, but was merely trying to lift her thoughts to lighter skies.

Rennes was wearing a tunic much like his, though very slightly longer, but it was again covered with the cloak she had worn when he first saw her, seemingly so long ago. She bore her father's sword, strapped to her back, with a quiver of arrows as he had, and a small knife at her belt, which she still found easier to use than the broadsword. Her hood was not covering her hair, which was bound into a knot at the nape of her neck, and she contrasted sharply with Arwen's feminine garb. She smiled at them, and let go of her companion, who lingered awkwardly a little way off with a swiftly enlarging group of elves waiting to see them off on their long road. Legolas felt Aragorn stiffen slightly at the space his lady left between them, but was distracted by the new arrival.

"Are you ready my lady?" Gimli slapped her lightly on her elbow, "Have you had your morning feed?" His optimism was infectious and Rennes grinned down at him. "I have indeed Master Dwarf." Forcing a look of concern on her face she continued, "I saw our small friends in the hall, and it seems they are worrying about where lunch will come in our little foray." The others laughed, and Aragorn said wryly "And no doubt their second breakfast's and elevenses as well!"

They had little time to wait until the subjects of their merriment emerged. Frodo, as seemed his wont, was without the gleeful energy of his younger companions but even he had conjured a smile to make his farewells with. Following them were Elrond and Gandalf, who, it appeared, had been the ones responsible for the expelling of the hobbits from a meal which would have rendered them immobile, such were their appetites. They carried their swords from the barrow downs, where, according to Merry and Pippin, they had had to fight ghouls to rescue Master Frodo and get the blades, though Legolas was inclined to disbelieve such tales, as he did not think they would have won any battle against such a wraith, especially when they had no swords.

The wizard joined them, along with the small folk, and Elrond went to stand beside his daughter and the other elves. His sons were now beside their sister also, and Legolas grinned at them as they pulled a face at their Father's solemnity. He began to speak the traditional words of parting, wishing them on their way with a formal leave taking, which Legolas would perhaps have been touched by if he had not been so distracted by Elladen and Elrohir fooling around directly behind the Lord of Rivendell. He bowed his head slightly, touching one hand to his heart in the traditional gesture of esteem when he felt his mask could not sustain more of the twins' antics, and he could feel Gimli and Rennes also subtly covering smiles, Gimli in his beard and Rennes following his example in a respectful shallow curtsey. Glancing sideways, he saw Aragorn looking at Arwen and Gandalf appearing to pay attention to every word Elrond was saying, while the hobbits stared up in awe at Elrond, whom they found so splendid with his formal robes and strict demeanor.

When his speech was ended, the company was on the verge of departed when a great blast sounded; Boromir had blown his war horn, and the sound reverberated from the rocks surrounding Rivendell. Elrond exclaimed angrily, but Boromir waived his objections rather arrogantly, saying only "Always I have let my horn cry at setting forth; I will not go forth as a thief in the night!" Gimli muttered something under his breath and Legolas too was irritated by his high handed manner, but he did not wish to start their journey with angry words, and held his peace.

Finally, Elrond bade Frodo lead them out, and they turned, stealing last looks at their refuge before following the hobbit through the arch. Legolas hoped Boromir would not hear the note of panic in Frodo's voice when he revealed that he did not even know whether it was to the right or the left that he should guide them. Glancing behind one more time, he entered the short tunnel leading outwards, in step with Rennes, behind him Aragorn with Pippin, Merry and Bill, as the Hobbits had christened the pony. The elves did not sing as they departed, nor were they smiles, or laughter, and all was gloom to either side as they climbed the steep paths that led out of the vale, onto the high wind swept moors.

The hobbits shivered inside the furs that Elrond had gifted to them, already struck by one of the hardships of their benighted quest, travelling when the sun had fled and sleeping under its revealing but feeble eye. For many days there were clouds above them, and it seemed as though all the water in them should be spent, yet it kept pouring down onto them, and soon there was not a dry figure among them, and only Rennes and Legolas could truly say they did not feel the bite of the freezing droplets.

It was dark country, and dark were their thoughts of the journey ahead.

--A/N yeah, kind of a depressing start to their little jaunt, next time maybe a little more actual appearance of Rennes. Thanks to all my reviewers, and let's add more to that number shall we?

I'd just like to say to the anonymous reviewer who felt that there was a feminist issue to address; men are naturally stronger than women, and build up muscle tissue more easily, so they have can put more power behind any driving force, which is what I meant. After all, she's not going to find herself fighting fencers, who fight through skill, (though of course that also requires muscle) it's going to be physically powerful orc fighters who are out to kill her as quickly as possible, as she tries to do the same to them. I think that was all correct and if you bother to read this again, maybe it will have cleared up your problem.


	14. Prickles

--A/N here's a scene that wasn't in the film, and is only about a page in my book, but I've enlarged it, grabbed an opportunity so to speak.

--Disclaimer: you know I don't own it, and I bet almost all of you skip reading this bit anyway.

After the ford of Bruinen, they turned south, leaving civilisation farther and farther behind them, but not seeming to bring the mountains closer at all. Icy wind issued from the eastern edge of the range ahead, where the snow did not melt on the peaks even in summer, and there were many complaints from the hobbits of the cold, though Frodo as was his wont kept them to himself and his fellows were quieted somewhat by his example to them.

The elves were sympathetic to their comrades, but the cloaks they had were too long to be of any help to the hobbits and Gandalf was more inclined to use the cold as a way to toughen them before the mountains, which would be worse by far than these foothills. Even Aragorn, who knew the country well, often led them to paths that descended over sheer falls, or into treacherous swamps, where solid ground was rare and pitfalls were many. Legolas was always left until last, for his eyes and ears were keener than all but Rennes, and she was placed with the hobbits in the middle, in order to chivvy them along and also, though this was left unsaid, to be easily protected if an attack should come from either flank.

Nevertheless, the ground was growing steeper, and they were making good time, considering the short legs of the hobbits. There was less grass and soil now, and more bare rock, dotted with scrub bush and small icy streams gushed from fissues in boulders, escaping from the deep lakes within the mountain sides.

It had been decided that they would go through the Dimrill Dale, and over the Redhorn gate, as that pass of tall Caradhras was called, and descend into the deep valley of the dwarves. Legolas did not look forward to this with joy, for all that the dwarves had long gone from those halls, descending into Moria, as Gimli would gladly tell anyone foolhardy enough to ask, though he had to admit that it would have been interesting the first time, if there had not been so many derogatory references to the elves and their ways entwined throughout the story.

Finally, after two se'nights of this drudgery, the sun broke through the clouds properly for the first time, and Gandalf announced their arrival in the land of Eregion, once an Elvin haven, though now it was named Hollin, for the holly bushes that bordered it's Northern edge. As Gimli related the history of the way ahead, relishing in the dwarfish lore of those parts, Legolas noticed that all was not well with Rennes. She was sitting above the hobbits at the base of the ridge, both hands palm wards on the ground. Her face was pale, and the slight frown lines that puckered between her eyes as she stared into the distance were sign enough to Legolas that she was not attending to the Dwarf's reminiscences.

Gandalf, who had been facing the hobbits, and so was also facing Rennes, noticed also, and perhaps thinking she was in need of comfort against the dangers of the road they must take he sought to reassure her.

"We cannot look too far ahead. Let us be glad that the first Stage is safely over. I think we will rest here, not only today but tonight as well. There is a wholesome air about Hollin. Much evil must befall a country before it wholly forgets the Elves, if once they dwelt here." He smiled at her, but she did not seem to notice, and Legolas felt compelled to continue in the awkward silence.

"That is true, but the elves of this land were not of the silvan folk, and the trees and the grass do not now remember them. Only the stones lament them, but they are gone; they sought the havens long ago"

"They did not seek the havens." Legolas was surprised out of his own reverie by her voice, soft but sure. "They sought shelter, but not all chose the Grey Havens. They were my people, and my ancestors. The ground is full of the remembrance. It welcomes me back." Her voice seemed to stick in her throat, and she shut her eyes, allowing only one tear to escape the barrier of lashes. "I miss them so much."

Boromir turned away, uneasy with her tears and Aragorn followed him, to find wood for a fire that night. Gandalf shooed the hobbits away also, on the pretence of finding kindling to encourage the wet wood to light, while he took Gimli, asking him to point out the mountains of interest in the dwarfish tales he told. Legolas was left alone with Rennes in the hollow, out of hearing and sight of the others. More tears were slipping from beneath her eyelids now, and her shoulders shuddered as she tried to hold them back. It was the first time he had seen her loose her composure since her nightmare back in Mirkwood, and he felt awkward in the absence of her usual tight control. He reached out a hand to rest on her cheek, wiping away the tears that lay there, trying desperately to think what Arwen or his father would do in this situation.

"Don't cry," he whispered rather lamely in sindarin, the language his father used when he had been hurt or unhappy as a child, the language of the higher elves. "Please don't cry. Your family is at peace. They dwell in Valinor now"

He vainly searched his mind for something more intelligent to say but he could not find anything, so he repeated his previous words, making her look up in puzzlement.

"What are you saying Legolas?"

He was alarmed. Could she not hear him? Had she been rendered deaf by the mere murmurings of the rocks on which they sat?

Her face broke into a smile at his astounded face. "I can hear you; I just can't understand what you're saying. You're speaking a tongue I do not know."

"You do not know the Sindar language? Were you not taught?"

"I have never heard it spoken before, though it is possible we have…had written records of it. My father certainly did not know it, or he would have had me learn it. Anything to keep me from trying to follow my brothers on the higher hunts in the mountains." Her smile faded slightly, "He was so concerned that I shouldn't be put into unnecessary danger. What would he do if he saw me now?"

"He would be proud of you," answered Legolas swiftly, before the smile faded completely, "Proud of what we will achieve at the end of our journey." He knew he had made a mistake at once, for her face shut, the smile faded completely and her eyes seemed to retreat, until even the spark that had shone through her tears was gone, replaced by fathomless black pits barely rimmed by blue. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her now travel stained shirt and stood up.

"We should go and help them with the fire."

--A/N she doesn't seem to be looking forward to the end of their journey. I'm too tired to deal with birds now. It's late (early?) where I live. Thanks to all reviewers in advance. That's a subtle hint, here's a big one; REVIEW

p.s. am I getting my languages confused here? Is sindarin actually high elfish or not, cause I must look really stupid if it's not. Tell me and I'll change the chapter, and acknowledge you at the bottom. Who's up for easy publicity on their fics?


	15. birds and branches

A/N Well, chapter 15 after a hugely long break. This writing is a 'treat' you're supposed to give yourself after an hour of revision, so I can't promise quality, but I can promise that they get moving again. By the by, this is the book's version of Crebain more than the film's.

As the sunrise grew into a blue sky, clear and unspoiled by clouds they breakfasted, talking cheerfully for the most part, of what was to come. They would not continue until the following evening, and had more than a full day's sleep ahead of them before they need face their road again. Aragorn paced restlessly, but Legolas paid no heed to his and Gandalf's low voiced whisperings, too concerned with the continued silence of Rennes to concentrate on any other worry. It was not that she was mute, but she replied with as few words as she needed to, answering the hobbits' questions after her health with single words, which they no doubt did not notice anyway, being too content on their breakfast.

She sat apart slightly, lying down to sleep with her face hidden from them, but Legolas doubted that she was actually resting. There was definitely something lord Elrond and Gandalf had not communicated to the party when they said her journey would end with Frodo's; in Mount Doom. Something was troubling her, and he did not like that. This was the princess who had walked to his father's court without a guard, and with a wound so severe she could barely be brought back from death. What could so daunt her composure that she would withdraw into herself in this manner?

He lay down to sleep, unconsciously mimicking Rennes' position away from the group. Doubtless the others would think elves very unsociable creatures, but he did not feel able to join in their chatter, after he had upset Rennes so much that she would not even eat what had been prepared.

Sleep would not come to him, now that he was warmed slightly by the sun, shining more brightly than it had at any other point in their journey. Sam was on watch, and Legolas heard him trying to be quiet, each twitch sounding like a volley of enemy arrows through the silence. He was disturbed by the silence as well. Something was not right, was not normal. It was too quiet for such a bright day; there was no background noise to blanket Sam's fidgeting. Aragorn was restless too, eventually joining Sam on the watch. This should have made Legolas feel more secure but strangely it did not, and if there was something out there that not even a ranger of the north could help them with he shuddered.

A around midday, when even Legolas's eyes had closed, he was awakened by a sudden movement. Sam had been flung to the ground by Aragorn, who now lay motionless beside him. Legolas also stiffened, hearing the sound of many wings above them, when that morning there had been nothing. His sensitive ears heard them wheel, seemingly in a body, though all he saw was the sparse grass directly in front of his face. They must have gone, for Aragorn stood up, helping a much aggrieved Sam to his feet. Legolas stood also, while at the other side of the huddled sleepers Rennes was alert as was Gandalf. They stared at Aragorn, who seemed to have been the only one to see the birds, and he replied curtly, still gazing in the direction the birds had gone.

"Crebain, out of Fangorn and Dunland; they spy out the land. Hollin is being watched, and we must away this evening." He sighed, and sat back down on the rock, "The enemy's arm must have grown long indeed to reach Hollin."

Gandalf screwed up his eyes, scanning the horizons, "It has grown long."

They moved off at dusk, with many complaints from the hobbits, but the others feared discovery, if they had not been seen that morning already, and gave them short shrift. Rennes even seemed relieved to be moving again, however scared she was of what she would meet at the end of their journey, and Legolas merely assumed that she was glad of the delay in the conversation he was determined to have with her. The elves allowed people their secrets, but they did not belong on such a quest as this. They must all be ready for what must come, and if they did not know what it was, they could be walking into greater peril than they were prepared to face. He would stay with her and Frodo for as long as his honour compelled him to, but would not countenance hurt to either of them.

It seemed they had walked for more leagues than there was land for before they reached Caradhras. The sky was dark, and the wind was chill when they rested that day at the very foot of the great mountain. They would have to reach the Redhorn gate that night, and sorry they were to approach it with such a look in the sky. Nevertheless they could only try, and Gandalf was able to reassure them that those clouds which looked so sinister gathered at the horizon could not reach them in their fury before to long. They were destined for the North by the look of it, he said, and the company were happy to believe him.

They collected a little wood each, while there were trees to collect it from, though Gandalf regarded the faggots with a black look. Rennes and Boromir though, who had both grown up in the mountains, argued that there would be no other chance, and it would be better for the smoke to be seen than for them to die up there unseen. At this remark the hobbits shivered and began to load Bill with the kindling too, until the animal appeared to tilt on his thin legs beneath the weight. Most of it was removed again, and then they began their ascent of Caradhras.

A/N Hope you liked; please R & R. Sorry it's so short, but revision calls again. (yuk)


	16. apology early finish

OK, this for now, is the last chapter. I don't have the time or enthusiasm to continue it now, so I'm going to declare it complete. Of course, this may mean that as soon as I click the 'complete' button I'll have a load of new ideas, but I wouldn't count on it. Thanks all who reviewed, especially Satiana, who's been faithful throughout.

As they preceded, the weather gradually worsened, and although they had been quite cheerful at the prospect of a mountain to climb while stuck in the foothills, it was clear that the hobbits were now wishing themselves somewhere warmer. The men were not flagging yet, but their spirits were. Boromir remained in the rear, chivvying the hobbits onwards, but Legolas had not heard his cries of encouragement for some time now, sign of the man of Gondor's own tiredness. The snow was light and feathery, resting for some moments on clothing without melting, and all had their hoods pulled over their heads. The other peaks rose around them, none as high as the Redhorn, slowly receding into the gloom of the snowstorm that looked to become fiercer as they continued upwards.

After they had climbed for some time, Gandalf asked Legolas to go ahead, in case he could see any clearer from higher up, and he sped up, drawing ahead of the rest of the fellowship easily. Nothing availed him though, for the curtain of snow only became thicker as he went on so he turned to rejoin them. In the roaring of the gale he thought he could detect a voice screaming malevolence at such a paltry figure caught in its grip. He squinted to see his any markings to show his path back to the group, for his shallow tracks were buried under at least an inch of snow already. Finally he saw a grey hulk in the snow and as he drew closer saw it to be Gandalf, cloak wrapped tight around him. He was standing stock still, gazing through the snow at the figures of what were presumably Aragorn, Boromir and one of the hobbits. There were huddled together, Boromir holding something Legolas could not quite make out. The elf felt a shiver run through him; nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with what he saw before him. It was the ring the Gondorian held, he was sure of it.

Close by the other three hobbits were huddled with Bill the pony and Gimli, presumably for warmth as in Legolas's eyes at least the dwarf could hold no other charm. Rennes was standing beside Gandalf, strands of wet hair plastered to her face under the hood. Legolas was sure it was not his imagination when Gandalf gave her a gentle push forward. She walked to the little group, and they seemed to break out of their tableau, though through the veil of snow Legolas could make out nothing of what she said. It did allow them to continue on their way though, and Legolas was grateful, for standing still, he had heard, was worse than moving for mortals. Any stop now would be a matter of life or death for those not of Elvish blood.

Perhaps an hour more had passed before Aragorn drew level with Gandalf and pleaded for a halt.

"The hobbits will die of this cold. We must stop!"

"If we stop now the storm will defeat us."

"It has defeated them already! They can not go on, and our strength is not inexhaustible either. The red horn does not wish us to pass."

Gandalf turned to peer down the cavalcade, and his face softened.

"We will stop then."

"At last!" Merry's spirits did not seem quite broken, despite his fatigue, and he dragged himself over to Bill. He seemed to have abandoned his load of wood halfway down the mountain, as had Pippin and Frodo, though Sam had resolutely soldiered on. "Now for a fire."

"No! Even if we do not have eyes for this snow Saruman is not blind; there will be no fire!" Gandalf's words stopped Pippin in his tracks, and Boromir looked up in amazement.

"No fire? How are we to survive here with no fire? A fire is as necessary as a rest is; and you cannot have one without the other!" his voice carried the conviction of one who had braved worse storms before, and Rennes nodded in agreement.

"Please Gandalf; better to be seen and live to escape than to die unseen!" Grudgingly the wizard agreed, though his sufferance was at the price of dark looks towards them as they prepared the faggots, many of them wet by now, and unwilling to catch the sparks from the tinderbox. After several minutes of fumbling Rennes raised her eyes to Gandalf and wearily he pointed his staff towards the pile of wood. Blue fire shot from the end, lighting the branches and soon they were all hunched around the glowing fire, under an overhanging ledge which protected them from the worst of the snow.

The hobbits were huddled together nearest to the fire, Gimli near them with Boromir and Aragorn. Gandalf sat slightly removed, muttering to himself. Legolas caught odd words, and smiled; the wizard was glad of the warmth, he could tell. "Might as well have sent word to Saruman directly; 'Gandalf the grey in the mountains' I don't know; hobbits!"

When the flames had grown warm enough some strips of rabbit meat were laid in the embers, left to blacken on the outside as none had the energy or inclination to construct any kind of spit. As soon as these were half cooked the hobbits seized on them, hot meat juices dribbling down their chins before they were quickly licked up. The two men and the dwarf joined them in their meal, but the elves feasted instead on some strips of dried meat, for the rabbits the men had killed yesterday would not fill the stomachs of all. When all were satisfied the first watch was given to Legolas, and as the others rested their heads against the rocky wall behind them, or each others shoulders he stoked the fire and began to shape a wall of snow around them, blocking out the flurrying snow and keeping the heat inside. He had settled back by the fire before Rennes tapped him on the shoulder.

"Legolas, I am sorry for my coldness to you in Hollin. It was rude of me, and unjust." He looked up in surprise, for he had not looked for an apology.

"My lady, there is no need to excuse yourself. I should not have pressed you as I did." She smiled at him.

"Now neither of us is at fault, for neither will allow the blame to be passed on. I must hope only that this means there is no blame now left."

"Indeed my wish is as yours." Her smile widened and he was sorely tempted to bring his fingertips to her lips, to feel whether they were as smooth as they looked, but behind them Aragorn was stirring, his ranger's body knowing when the next watch was required of it, so he was prevented doing anything more than retreating to a spare bit of rock wall with Rennes, who after several minutes seemed to fall into the meditating sleep that was all the rest the elves required. As her head flopped on to his shoulder he gently tilted his own to rest on hers, warmed by her presence as he could never be by the flames.

Bye all!


End file.
